


Carbon Will, Iron Might

by Lelelea



Series: The Dominion [4]
Category: ASIMOV Isaac - Works, Foundation - Isaac Asimov, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: ALL TEH OCS, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Memory Loss, Multi, People getting shot, lost lovers, mean Empire, there might just be a happy ending for our heroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:28:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3896326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lelelea/pseuds/Lelelea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imperial Intelligence Officer Levi Caldrera is a good officer. He is reasonably competent, doesn't ask too many questions, and has an uncanny ability to dodge blaster fire.<br/> When a Rebel spy steals sensitive data from the destroyer <i>Vindicator<i>, he is assigned the case. His chase leads him to Byleris, where he, upon a whim, attends a lecture on the Jedi's part in destabilizing the Republic.  It is there that he finds his face plastered on the projector, with the name Elijah Baley underneath it. After that, an android tries to kill him. </i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The rest, as they say, is history.</i>
  </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And heeeerrrreeee we gooooo!  
> All will be explained in due time.

“A drink,” said Tralissia Dexoni, “to another successful mission.”

The bartender merely smirked at her. “ID or get bust, young lady. You owe me seven hundred credits and a cargo box.”

“Di’kut,” she returned smoothly, pouting. “You sons of Gamorreans will pay for your selfishness, I swear it.”

The alien scoffed and turned his back to the Zeltron. She looked at the holoscreen above.

“It is a shame Grand Admiral Thrawn is dead. He had a handsome face.”

“There goes what remained of the Empire.”

Tralissia looked surprised. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

The woman who’d slid in next to her smiled. ‘Depends on which side you’re on. Personally, I think Thrawn was good-looking, but a little too smart for me. Didn’t he have a thing for his subordinate?”

“Pellaeon? He’s so old!”

“That’s no excuse for a Corellian. I’d take hook-up advice from that human any day.” The last word was said with a sensual leer.

The Zeltron leaned closer, smiling to reveal perfectly even white teeth. “My mama always used to say it’s what you could do under pressure that counts.”

The woman touched noses with Tralissia. “Your mama was right.”

Suddenly, there was a crash and a large man went flying across the room. He slammed headfirst into the drumset of the Bith band. Silence descended. The Zeltron sent a weird look at the corner, crinkling her nose.

"He's hot...but he's not hot," Tralissia said quizzically.

"Quantum shit," agreed the woman and drank from her glass. "Wait, you talking about the guy who just learned how to imitate a starship?"

“Caldrera!”

The other man wiped his brow, wrinkling his nose at the indignant bartender and stood. “No need to yell, I’m right here.”

“YOU OWE ME FIVE THOUSAND CREDITS!”

The man shrugged and the crowd parted as he made his way to the fallen behemoth and ruffled about in his pockets. Pulling out a wallet, he tossed it to the bartender.

“Muscles is paying,” said Levi Caldrera and walked out the door, trench coat rippling behind him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you miss me, boys?

All Levi had wanted was a drink. He was not getting that tonight. The two men and a rodian had followed him from the bar, angry that he had beaten the bantha poodoo out of their leader. He looked at them, and suddenly felt irrationally angry. 

"Idiots," he muttered and bought out his blaster. A firefight would be better than nothing for the frustration boiling up in him and he shot first, then turned tail and sprinted. He was getting on in years, but he thankfully hadn't got any slower. Once again he thanked the gods for giving him good genes and whipped around a corner while the rodian ran past. Once he was sure that they were gone, he tapped his comm and recalculated how long of a hike it was back to his ship. It chirped once.  _Two miles._

He sighed and prepared to trudge back, knee twinging.

 

Once firmly ensconced on his ship, he raised the temperature-it had been nippy outside-and opened the comm messages. Three of the messages were from his superior, demanding his mission report and status, five were spam and two more were from colleagues, asking to catch up over drinks. He sent his employer the reports and a line about his health and marked the other two for later. He saw that the spaceport authority had cleared him for liftoff about an hour ago. He ignited the engines and the Starclad rose gently through the atmosphere. He had been on Lothal, a routine check in last and he could still remember the long grass and blue sky, marred only by an Imperial Star Destroyer-

- _"Come Eli," said Daneel and pulled the petrified man out into the rain and he had clung to him, feeling as if he would fall into space and that the only thing that tethered him to the ground was Daneel. The other man stood there, head tilted to the sky and mouth parted, as if he could catch the raindrops-_

The loss of his memory had happened while he had been so deep undercover for the Auroran police that barely anyone knew he'd existed. All he could remember was Pella Glama standing over him, telling him that there had been an accident but he was alive now thank the stars and what did he remember  _oh god he didn't remember anything did he_ and she'd cried when she'd asked him his name and he had only stared at her mutely, uncomprehending.

He slammed a hand on the control panel. He hated the few, brief partial memories that he had been left with after his botched memory wipe, hated not knowing who Daneel was and why every time he remembered him, he felt only a muted grief and longing. It had become part of him now, a private mourning for a man he did not know.

Levi had just been honorably discharged when Imperial Intelligence had recruited him. He had saved one of their operatives when the Empire had only just begun and his skill had made him stand out. They had kept an eye on him after that, and three days after Commissioner Enderby signed his discharge papers, they had come knocking on his door. He had only been too willing to go, the loss of his memory still fresh, and he knew that he was meant for more.

He had gone nearly twenty years without his memories and was coping just fine without them. He didn't need them, didn't need the former agoraphobia or Daneel. If only he'd been able to get drunk and then pass out on his bunk. This DiploServ mission had tired him out, all the way to his bones. The minister had been unwilling to listen to reason and he knew that she would be deposed in a matter of weeks, if not months. The Empire demanded unquestioned loyalty. 

It did no good to dwell on the past. He entered the hyperspace coordinates for the _Vindicator_ and pulled the lever.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Levi fumed as he strode down the corridors of the  _Vindicator_ but kept his face calm and his thoughts to himself even as the officer at his side berated him. It was the usual litany of shipwide politics, veiled threats and orders that persisted among the ranks and not for the first time he thanked his past former self for not joining the Imperial Navy. 

"With that being said Caldrera, perhaps you should take a break," said the man and Levi stopped abruptly enough that the other man had nattered on several paces ahead.

"May I ask why, Officer?" he asked. "Has my work been below par?"

"Not at all," replied Commander Enderby, adjusting his belt rather nervously. The man had some strange tics and they always managed to annoy him deeply "It's simply because you're due for some rest and relaxation since you've been accruing sick days at a tremendous rate. You've solved quite a few diplomatic mysteries and it would be good for you to have a change of pace. I do know some good pleasure planets that are discreet and out of the way."

"Thank you for the offer, but I think I will allow for a few more sick days. Criminals never rest and neither does the Empire." Levi looked at him sternly.

"On your own head be it, then," sighed Enderby. He handed him a datapad. "Your next assignment, Caldrera. You are to go to Brixon and investigate whether their willingness to join the Empire. They have several major doonium veins and a supply of bacta that would serve the cause."

"Is that not in Wild Space, sir?" Levi was geniunely surprised, and also a little afraid. Wild Space was either where you went to prove your worth, or your death.

"It is on the very edge of it, yes. Don't be too worried, Caldrera. You will not only have diplomatic aides, but the full might of the Empire behind you."

"Of course," Levi murmured. "I am only worried about such a change in assignment. This isn't what I usually do."

"The powers that be up in Diplomatic Service believe that you are the best man for the task. Some of the others have said that we're wasting your talents with milk runs, and I agreed with them," the man puffed up and straightened his uniform. "I think it's time that we put one of our best to use," he said, "and that means you."

Levi couldn't tell whether he should be touched or mortified. Instead, he maintained his neutral, slightly grumpy expression. "Thank you for your praise, sir."

"Perfectly all right, Caldrera. You're dismissed." Enderby saluted, sharp and precise and Levi mirrored him.

The man continued on his way down the long gleaming hall, pondering. Were they shelving him? He had a spotless record and several commendations. There was no reason for his superiors to move him out of the way. On the other hand, Brixon sounded like a lucrative investment for his career. Almost too lucrative. No matter what, he would have to tread with caution. Despite his memory loss, he was an excellent diplomat, if a little trigger-happy, but then the best usually were.

His quarters were quiet and impersonal on this floating base and it made him a little sad. He had grown up with greenery and golden light around him, had played in gardens as a child, with fistfuls of dark warm earth and trees that seemed to reach into the sky. He could have been a gardener once, gently trimming plants so that they grew correctly, planting seeds that were the color of his light robes and obi.

Levi startled. Where had that thought come from? He had never worn robes in his life. Discomfited, he grabbed the datapad and began scrolling through it, committing census data and planetary quirks to memory. The Brixon shared an uneasy truce with colonist humans, having recently stepped out of a civil war, and their Senator was-

His heart stopped. It was Daneel, his Daneel, golden skin and impossibly blue eyes, tall, haughty and imperious. Daneel Olivaw, only his name said Han Fastolfe the Third and that he was a Coruscanti educated noble. Levi knew this man, knew him intimately. And yet, he didn't.

Pella, the woman from the police force, had said he lost someone, along with his memories when they'd recovered him from a terrorist attack during the fall of the Republic. Was Han that person?

He didn't know, but now he was determined to find out. Even as he thought this, his door chimed loud and insistent. He crossed to open it, and swallowed audibly when the door opened to admit a member of the Inquisitorial Squad.

"Officer Caldrera," she said smoothly. A lesser man than Levi would have shrunk back at her presence. He was not a man given to folly but he could have sworn that her shadow moved of its own volition.

"Inquisitor," he said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I came to congratulate you personally," she smiled, her teeth glimmering. "Your promotion to ambassador was unexpected...but welcome."

"Thank you," he said uncomfortably. 

"You know," she sat on his bed, examining her fingernails, "I did want to speak with you about your memory loss. Is it affecting your ability to function?"

"With all due respect Inquisitor, I do not wish to answer that question," he said. She was off of his bed and at his throat, her red saber gleaming with an unholy light. 

"How dare you say no!" she shrieked. To his credit, he did not flinch, nerves deadened by years of police work and explosions. Her countenance suddenly became serene again.

"No matter," she smiled. "I will peel it out of you soon enough. No enemy of mine escapes my grip."

"Inquisitor," he managed finally, "but I am not your enemy. I am a loyal officer to Emperor Palpatine and I will serve him until I die." His words rang with the truth.

She peered at him. "It is strange that you have such goodness in your heart. You have the Light within you. It is is disgusting."

He did his best not to give her a strange look-she would probably skewer him then. "I beg your pardon?" he asked. In his opinion, he was being far more polite than the situation deserved.

"The Force shines brightly in you," she said, finally deigning to give him an explanation. Her nose wrinkled. "It is atrocious. Obviously you don't believe me, but..."

His chest felt as if it were being constricted, invisible bands closing around him. Levi's vision went gray for a moment.

"...the Force binds all living things and it takes our souls when we die."

She watched him take in great gasping lungfuls of air, thoughtful. "It doesn't matter, Caldrera. If you have any secrets, I will know them eventually."

"I'm not your enemy," he said, coughing.

"For now," she shrugged. "Goodbye, Ambassador. May your crown of thorns not strangle you." With that, she left, closing the door behind her quietly.  He remained kneeling on the floor, trying to gather his thoughts.

 _Force my ass_ he thought to himself, surly. If any of that newfangled religious nonsense involved strangulation, he wanted none of it.

Unless if were Fastolfe strangling him, then he would appreciate it quite thoroughly.

He groaned and smacked his face, hard enough to bruise. Perhaps if he meditated, sleep would not elude him tonight. 

 

 

When he woke the next morning, he saw a communique from Brixon was blinking on his communicator. It was a pre-recorded message and he hit play, blinking blearily.

"Greetings, Ambassador Caldrera," said Senator Fastolfe. His voice was as arrogant as his demeanor. "We look forward to receiving you on Brixon and hope that this will be a step towards furthering our official status as a planet under the Empire. I would like to talk to you personally, and will be part of your receiving party at the capital. If you have any questions, please contact me. Again, thank you and long live the Galactic Empire."

- _dearest friend, said Daneel and embraced him tightly-_

_-he lay on the ground, a smoking hole in his chest-_

_-the man always preferred dark blue robes that were the color of the dawn just before the sun rose and he knew this because he had told him so, over dinner and a wine that loosened his tongue-_

_-"You must run!" and Daneel pushed him hard, away from the woman with the blaster-_

_  
_"Jehoshaphat," said Caldrera weakly and covered his face with his hands. He was going to go insane.

 


End file.
